


Break

by threewalls



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: BDSM, Bruises, Class Issues, M/M, Morning After, Responsible Submissive, Sharing a Bed, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-31
Updated: 2008-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-15 03:39:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/156659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threewalls/pseuds/threewalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><cite>Conrad's still sleeping soundly beside him, the sheet only as far as his knees because that's where the bruises stop.</cite></p>
            </blockquote>





	Break

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to lynndyre for encouragement.

The sun's rising in earnest now, the rusty glow creeping around the shutters and under the door; Yozak gives up the pretence of trying to sleep.

You learn things as a spy that you hope you'll never need again.

Conrad's still sleeping soundly beside him, the sheet only as far as his knees because that's where the bruises stop. They look darker now, in the seeping daylight, than they did when Yozak doused the lamps last night. He wants to touch Conrad, pet his hair, carefully stroke the unmarked spaces on his skin if that'll help, but he doesn't dare. He can't; Conrad's sleeping.

Assault on a member of the former royal house. If he's lucky, they won't bury him in a dress.

They won't be found immediately-- Yozak doubts anyone saw them leave with all the hoop-la last night at the palace-- but they will be soon. Conrad's a prince. He will be missed. No point running, Yozak has nowhere to go, and they’re only three hours ride from Blood Pledge and still on crown land. Last night, he'd needed to get Conrad out of the castle, and then to get him somewhere they wouldn't be heard, but now-- well, spiriting Conrad to a hunting shack miles from the nearest homestead in the middle of the night looks suspicious even without the bruises. With them, it's just a whole different kind of suspicious.

Kidnapping and assault. There's not going to be enough left of him to bury in a dress.

He wishes he could blame it all on getting drunk after the wedding, but two mugs of beer and a flute of champagne was nothing. Looking back, it was Conrad's smile that did it, though that wasn't any better an excuse.

Yozak had spotted Conrad, just standing at the edge of the party with a flat glass of champagne in his hand. The whole castle, from the Maou to the maids, dancing and laughing and singing, but none of it was touching him. He'd been smiling, because Yuuri had told him to have the night off, to have fun, and it had hurt Yozak to see that smile on Conrad's face because once Yuuri and Wolfram became noticeably, happily absent, Conrad hadn't bothered to make it reach his eyes any longer.

Yozak had blind-folded Conrad so that he didn't have to look at those empty eyes. The way Conrad had moved last night, the noises he'd made-- Yozak hadn't known Conrad could sound like that. Yozak hadn't known how much he'd like making Conrad make those noises, but it helped that Conrad hadn't begged for mercy under Yozak's belt, only to be fucked.

Conrad wakes slowly, stretching and groaning as his stretch finds welts and bruising. His leg slides along Yozak's, slow and warm with sleep, and then a second pass, deliberate. "Mm, Yozak?"

"Yes?"

"Are you ok?"

Last night, they didn't kiss, though Conrad has livid bitemarks at the back of his neck. Yozak can talk his way out of anything, anywhere, anyplace, anytime, but there's something about Conrad's enduring obsession with Yuuri, with Julia, with other people's fiancees, that makes Yozak want to use his strength to speak for him. Yozak is sick of being Conrad's confidant, sick of Conrad having no balls to tell those he wants. Conrad had asked to be hit, and Yozak had struck him until Conrad's mind could stray no further than the dimensions of their bed. Yozak's dick twitches, not quite morning wood. He should have had more self-control.

"Yeah. You?"

Conrad slings an arm over Yozak's chest, and then pushes up enough to face Yozak.

"Thank you," he says. "I'm not normally that--"

"Pushy? I don't know, that seemed like you."

Conrad brushes the hair from his eyes, and _looks_ at Yozak.

"I meant that I don't normally ask for--"

"I remember. It's not been that long." Years, but who's counting? They're half-Mazoku. They have years to spend.

Yozak expects Conrad to say something frivolous and romantic, that it had been too long, or to change the subject back to his more favoured topics, one beginning with "Yu-", or roll out of bed, but he's still just watching Yozak. His eyes are brown and clear and calm, and for once, he isn't joking.

"Have you done that before?"

"Strike a man--" Yozak shrugs. "Not recreationally?"

Conrad nods, wets his lips as though he might say more, but he doesn't. He pushes up, climbs up Yozak, his hand behind Yozak's head and his mouth trying for deeper kisses than morning breath should let him get away with. He doesn't wince as he moves, but pushes appreciatively into Yozak's hands on his back. Conrad is straddling him now, the sheet somewhere loose down the foot of the bed. Conrad's skin is warmer, far warmer than Yozak's.

"Let me do the work this time."

Absconded to royal love-nest in the woods. Yozak can live with that.


End file.
